


morning routine

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ...dare i say it, F/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, cums and yums, kill me, porn with barely a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 06:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21503578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: everything felix does, he does with great attention. this includes annette.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 18
Kudos: 199





	morning routine

**Author's Note:**

> because in a modern au, you know that felix _would_ be the shit whose ringtone is a 15-second clip of his wife and kids singing baby shark, and everyone would know it because he also doesn’t ever fucking pick up his fucking phone.
> 
> this is for the lovely folks of the felannie discord chat, who inspired me to actually finish the fic.

For Felix, the sound of coffee usually wakes him before the smell of coffee reaches his nose.

And by the sound of coffee, we mean the same melody Annette always absentmindedly sings while grinding the beans and brewing the pot. Every now and then she adds a variation to the tune, maybe an extra line when it’s Friday, or a fermata after a sleepless night, but it’s always the same bubbly chords that never fail to stir Felix up from bed.

As disciplined Felix has always been, his one secret vice — one that never made it to academy gossip — was how late he slept in on weekends. His brash nature and acute sense for unwelcome observers discouraged others from spying on him, and the presumed assumption when he wasn’t around for breakfast was that he was out in the courtyard somewhere honing his swordsman skills, when in actuality, Felix Hugo Fraldarius was most definitely still under his bedcovers.

And like all character flaws, Felix rationalizes his predilection for skipping the mornings to the amount of work he puts in during the afternoon and evening hours. Quality over quantity, he tells himself.

The only condition when Felix is out of bed before noon is when he hears Annette singing. He always has been a captive of her voice, and even as silly as her spontaneous lyrics are, what remains true is how rich and lovely her voice is.

This morning is no different. He pulls himself out of his bed, rolling onto his feet. He gives his back a quick stretch and makes his way toward the kitchen, catching the last few lines of her song.

“Hear the drip, drip, drip into the pot — and that’s the sound of the morning!”

He can tell she didn’t hear him come into the kitchen, as her voice goes an octave up when he encircles her waist with his arms, pressing his chest into her back. He nuzzles the base of her neck.

“Felix! You scared me! I almost dropped this full cup of coffee onto my foot!” she scolds him.

He doesn’t mean to laugh, but he snorts anyway.

“That’s not funny!” she says, outraged. She puts down the coffeepot and her mug, turning around in his embrace and crossing her arms over her chest in protest.

He smiles and kisses her frown. “Good morning,” he replies.

She seems to forgive him then, taking the back of his head in her hands and leaning his face towards her to deepen the kiss. “Do you want coffee?”

He shakes his head. “Nope,” he says, resting his arms around her hips. “I just want you.”

“That’s romantic, but I made an extra cup and I expect you to drink it because I can’t have another cup without getting the shakes,” she says matter-of-factly. She acts unflustered but he can tell she’s hiding a blush by the way she subtly bites her bottom lip. She turns around, holding a cup of coffee in her two hands and gently bumping it into his chest. “Drink,” she commands.

He doesn’t want to loosen his arms from around her to take the cup, but he also doesn’t want to see her frown, so he compromises. He leaves one arm wrapped around her waist while one hand takes the handle of the mug, taking a careful sip of the still-very-hot brew.

“Tastes lovely,” he tells her, setting down the coffee on the counter behind her. “But you know caffeine doesn’t really help me wake up, right?”

She furrows her eyebrows at him. “Well then, I can’t fathom why the smell of it never fails to do just that,” she replies.

This makes him break another smile. Even after all these times he’s told her that he loves her singing, she seems to have completely forgotten that she inherently sings while performing menial tasks of the day and that perhaps maybe the association between coffee and his wakefulness is actually confounded.

He chooses not to explain. He just leans in to press a kiss to her lips, which she willingly accepts.

She giggles when he pulls back to look at her face. “You’re so kissy today, Felix.”

“Are you telling me that I’m not kissing you enough on other days?”

“Oh, don’t read too much into it,” she scolds him lightly.

Ignoring her, he escalates, leaning further into her so that her back is firmly pressed against the countertop. “Are you telling me that perhaps I _owe_ you a _number_ of kisses today?”

Knowing he isn’t going to quit, she puts down her coffee next to his, her giggling growing louder. She puts her hands up, as if to protect herself. “No…” she plays along.

He gives her a couple pecks, kissing her between her fingers. Defenseless, she attempts to guard herself but his lips continue to get past her hands. She laughs with every kiss he lands, turning her face away from him but failing to keep him from kissing her. He kisses her on her cheek, her temple, her eyelid, her ear, her nose, her neck, her fingertips, over and over again.

“Okay, stop!” she laughs out loud, pressing her palms against his lips, as if muzzling him.

“Not until I reach quota,” he says, voice muffled through her hands. His head swivels around to try to get past her hands, but she is adamant about keeping his lips away from her.

“Stop! _Stop!_ ” she warns him, laughing. After a few moments of him not abiding to her request, something snaps in her, and she suddenly takes his face in both hands, squishing his cheeks between her palms. “Stop,” she says, giving him a laser sharp glare.

He does, mildly intimidated — but also… turned on? There’s just something about the intensity of her actions, the abrupt change in her demeanor…

She giggles, breaking her threatening façade. “You’re so cute, Felix,” she says, coming forward to kiss him squarely on the lips. She leans in hard, pressing up against him to the point that he stumbles back a couple steps — which seems to be exactly what she intended, because now that she isn’t trapped between him and kitchen counter, she whirls around to down another gulp of coffee.

Felix remains a little dazed from her kiss, adjusting his stance so that he’s back solidly on his two feet. As his eyes wander while he recovers from her strong-willed affection, he can’t help but notice that one end of her extra-large t-shirt (her favorite form of nightwear) is caught under the seam of her panties, allowing the curve of her bottom to peek out.

With some clever footwork, Annette spins back around, leaning back against the kitchen counter and taking another swig of her coffee. “But really though. If coffee doesn’t get you up, then what does?”

Her ass no longer in view, he blinks, almost confusedly. His eyes snap back up to hers, and he offers her a toothy grin. “You do,” he says.

She sighs loudly and rolls her eyes. He takes the opportunity to step forward in front of her and follows his urge to pinch her.

“Seriously, Felix, I don’t need your cheesiness to— _day!_ ,” her voice raises when he takes a good chunk of her butt between his thumb and forefingers.

“You don’t understand,” he replies coolly, sliding his hand up over her hip and to the small of her back. “When I say that you get me up, I really do mean that you get me _up_.”

It’s about now that Annette puts two-and-two together. He knows because she decidedly puts her coffee back down on the kitchen counter, trading the mug in her hand for the waistband of his sweatpants and the pout on her lips for a smirk.

“That’s funny,” she murmurs, stepping in and closing the space between their bodies. “Because it looks like you’re going straight back to bed.”

No time is wasted after those words are spoken. Within their next breath, his lips rejoin hers and their bodies crash against the walls, taking turns to open their eyes to guide each other back to their bedroom. Once his calves hit the bedframe, she pushes him backwards. His body hits the mattress, bouncing back up from the impact, but her body tumbles onto him right after.

Straddling his waist, she pulls her shirt over her head and leans back down to kiss him fervently. Blindly, he reaches up to hold her, finding his hands just below her ribcage. He slides his hands up until her breasts fall into his palms. Giving them a gentle squeeze, he readjusts his body under her, and in response, she shifts her weight up from him to her knees.

She breathes in, taking a break from kissing him and focuses her attention to his sweatpants and the telltale bulge that the thick fabric couldn’t hide.

“Get this _off_ ,” she mutters through her teeth, as if frustrated, and she grips both sides of his waist and pulls down in one strong motion.

Felix can’t help but smile. He absolutely revels in seeing her so dedicated to fucking him, and how much harder he got proves it.

She gets his pants halfway down his thigh, and deeming that sufficient, she takes his cock in one hand, pulling aside the underwear fabric over her vulva with the other hand, and lowering herself down until his tip teased along her labia, gliding slick over her arousal.

He sees her eyelids flutter closed and feels her start to relax on top of him, sitting down to let him fully penetrate. And despite how much he would absolutely love to just let her ride him to her heart’s desire, he knows there are much more _agonizing_ ways to build her climax.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he retorts, taking her hips with his hands to keep them up above him. Before she can protest, he rolls over, flipping her onto her back. Coming up to his knees, he lifts her legs straight up, kissing her left calf before sliding his hands down to the waistband of her panties. “You’re not ready yet,” he coos. “You still have your underwear on!”

His index fingers then hook over the elastic band of said undergarment, pulling them off and up her legs before flinging them somewhere on the other side of the room. He slips his hands between her thighs then, pulling them apart until her knees touched the mattress. He takes a languid look at her naked body, resting his gaze for a couple seconds longer at the telltale glistening at her center.

But he lifts his eyes back to her face, and when his eyes meet hers, she huffs at him.

“You’re evil, Felix,” she says in a small voice.

He gives her a boyish smile. “What was that?”

“You’re _evil,_ Felix!” she repeats with a raised voice. Her bright blue eyes are especially striking against the deep pink flush over her cheeks.

He finds it endearing how embarrassed she gets even after all the number of times he’s gone down on her. But no matter — he knows that she’ll quickly lose herself.

His hands run down the insides of her thighs, as he centers himself over her. “That’s ironic seeing that I’m just about to make you feel so _good_ ,” he replies, finishing his sentence with a soft exhale over her skin.

She makes a sound between a whimper and a grunt. She covers her face with her hands, which he takes as a green light. And so he kneels and runs the flat of his tongue over her, ending the stroke with a kiss.

She gasps, and that’s really all he needs to get to work. He hums approvingly and settles himself comfortably, pulling her folds apart with his thumbs and applying his mouth — his lips to gently pinch, his teeth to tickle, his tongue to press deep into her.

“ _Felix_ ,” she sighs. He feels her relax underneath him, her hips arching up to offer a better angle. He looks up at her face, meeting her eyes. He smiles, seeing her dilated pupils — large black pools in the middle of her oceans — and her parted lips, just the tip of her middle finger between her teeth. He refocuses his attention back to her pleasure, feeling her hand push back the hair from his face to hold it at the back of his head.

As a few minutes pass, her hand drops from his head. He feels the strands of his hair fall back, knowing that she is well on her way. He furtively looks up at her, seeing one of her arms thrown up above her head and the other fondling her breast. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her eyebrows are furrowed tight, and every now and then her body quivers.

There’s lots of things Felix can appreciate about the sight, the smell, the feel of Annette about to come, but unsurprisingly, he loves most how her mouth hangs open and her voice sings long continuous notes that quite literally tell him where she is at. The melody rises as she nears a peak, falters back as she rides out the wave.

He carries on, eager for her to reach her highest point and then watch her burst, tumble, and crash back down is a treat each and every time. Not that he always gets there — sometimes there just isn’t enough time and sometimes she’s too worried about the next item on her never-ending to-do list — but Felix makes it a personal manifesto to shoot his best shot every time he’s down on her, seeking to improve his numbers in the same manner as he polishes his critical hits.

His current ratio is something within 0.85 — but based on how she suddenly sharply inhales and how her hands fist the sheets of the bed, he suspects that number to go off a decimal point.

“Oh! Felix!” she exclaims in two breaths, her back arching up. Her body tightens, practically all her muscles contracting, before releasing in several strong tides. She moans words, gurgling sweet nothings he can’t understand.

Humming in satisfaction with himself, he lifts himself up, crawling his way back up to her lips and pressing a messy kiss onto her mouth. She graciously receives him, draping her arms around his head and lifting her jaw up to meet him, coaxing his mouth open with her lips. He settles into their make-out session, haphazardly attempting to kick off his sweatpants — which, for some godforsaken reason, is still caught on his ankles.

In the midst of their kiss, Annette bursts out laughing, reaching down to help relieve Felix of his clothing. She pushes him onto his back, where he can feel the previously created wet spot on the mattress underneath him. Feeling strangely proud about having contributed to that, he lays with satisfaction as she untangles his shed sweatpants from his feet. He reaches up to the drawer of their nightstand, rummaging by touch until his fingers happen upon the familiar feel of a square wrapper. Automatically, he tears apart the package, taking the condom and unrolling it over him just as Annette tosses his pants over the side of their bed.

She gives him a bright smile, climbing back up over his body. “You’re the worst, you know?” she tells him, spreading her fingers over his chest and steadying herself just over his cock.

He raises an eyebrow. “For making you cum?” he teases.

She presses her lips together as if she’s about to scold him. She deflects the question. “I had things to get to this morning,” she states.

“It’s Sunday, Annie,” he chuckles. He lets his hands follow the outer edge of her thigh, from her knee to her hips. “What could you possibly have on your schedule?” Before she can answer, he grips her waist and lifts his hips up to penetrate her. “Don’t tell me you had to water the plants.”

“But I do!” she retorts. She resists his physical persuasion, squeezing her thighs tight around his waist and angling her pelvis away from him. “And I have to dust the bookshelves! And I have re-organize our closet! And I _couldn’t_ clean out the coffeepot filter because you _interrupted_ me!”

He laughs. “I’ll help you,” he promises her.

She huffs, as if forgiving him, and lowers herself onto him. He can’t help the initial groan escape his lips as he feels her sit down completely onto him. She sighs with an open mouth, letting herself enjoy his girth momentarily before rocking her hips over him.

Normally, Felix is straightforward with fucking. In, out, dominating with a good depth and a good pace, not even checking to see if Annette is enjoying it because he just _knows_ that she is. But over time he’s learned to appreciate laying back and letting her have him to herself however she wants — especially since he knows he will be awarded well in the end anyway.

He provides her a little support every now and then, advancing his hips occasionally just for fun, but he mostly watches her ride him, seeing her orange curls bounce over her shoulders, a strand or two catching at the corner of her lips. She giggles to herself every now and then, pleasantly surprised at the variety of angles his cock enters and re-enters her — it’s incredibly adorable and equivalently sexy.

He knows she’s tiring out as her body becomes more prone and her rhythm begins to even out into a casual rock. Her breasts brush over his chest and the ends of her hair tickle his skin.

This is when he takes over. He embraces her tight, to hold her against his torso, and readjusts his position, planting his feet onto the mattress with his knees up. He readies, before picking the pace back up and thrusting hard into her. His strokes are strong and definitive, and he relishes hearing how her breath hiccups and how her body shakes with his rhythm.

“Fe-Felix…” she gets out, before resorting back to a continuous moan. “Please…yes… _please_ …”

He delivers a brief kiss to her forehead, lightly damp with sweat, then ups his speed, ups his power. At this point, his own breath is jagged, impatient for the inevitable rise of his own climax.

And when it comes, his brain completely shuts down — and all he experiences is hearing his own groan flood his ears, her loud sigh, a hot tingle from the base of his cock up… his eyes reopen and as his vision clears, he sees her looking back at him with a warm smile.

“Hey,” she says softly, in singsong. He feels her comb back the hair from his face.

He exhales the kept air in his lungs. “Hey,” he greets her back, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

Her smile widens and she rolls over onto her back, nuzzling up against him with her chin on his shoulder and her hand holding his. She kisses his jawline, tracing a finger over his chest with her free hand.

“So…” she coos. “You’re going to do some extra chores today, right?”

His eyes open lazily, and he turns his head downward to see her. “Yes,” he assures her. He rolls his head back.

“I might need that coffee after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> you know where to find me:
> 
> tumblr @ahumanintraining  
> twitter @napsbeforesleep  
> discord @ahumanintraining#2153


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